


toplap story

by georgina_bulsara



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale making up incorrect words for technology, Crowley Noises (tm), Crowley the IT guy, Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, Guess the author challenge, M/M, Wallpaper fic where the wallpaper was on the computer, dorky and stupid, selfie with ducks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgina_bulsara/pseuds/georgina_bulsara
Summary: In which Crowley goes to great lengths to help Aziraphale fix his laptop (aka toplap), and they are both terrible at technology but very into each other
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 34
Collections: Name That Author Round Two





	toplap story

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt: "I hated that wallpaper, anyway."  
> And yes, Aziraphale WAS downloading explicit stories onto his MacBook (BookMac?)

“Crowley, dear, I’m so sorry to cause a nuisance, but I’m afraid my computational thingy is acting up. It won’t stop whirring, and the screen has gone all blotchy. I’m afraid I may have broken it.”

“What did you do, angel?” Aziraphale was sufficiently competent on a telephone, but Crowley did fear that giving him access to a computer in his bookshop might’ve been a step too far. 

“I’m not sure, but I certainly hope I haven’t accidentally summoned a demon!” Aziraphale chuckled conspiratorially. “Besides you, of course.” 

Crowley involuntarily face-palmed at the little joke, but managed to restrain himself from saying anything mean. “Grhmngg, I’ll be right over. Just don’t touch anything else.” 

Crowley knew, deep down, that he wasn’t the ideal candidate to help Aziraphale with technological difficulties. He was more useful if your problem with technology was that you couldn’t get it to help you fuck shit up. That, he excelled at doing. Give him a computer and a wily plot against a politician, and he was your man. Or, man-shaped being, at least. 

This particular task was probably more suited to a human, preferably a human with modern, technological expertise. But he’d feel bad if he didn’t at least take a crack at helping Aziraphale.

When Crowley sauntered into the shop, he was met with a bustling Aziraphale, busy making a mug of cocoa. “Crowley,” he said, with that extremely pleased tone that made Crowley weak at the knees. “I’ll show you upstairs. Unless you wanted anything?”

“Nrrp,” he replied elegantly, gesturing for Aziraphale to lead the way. 

“Well,” Aziraphale explained once they got to his cluttered desk, “I was just downloading another lovely story from inline to read on my toplap, and then the whole thing just kaput, as I said before. And I had quite a lot of dossiers on there, so I’ll be terribly vexed if I can’t recover them.” 

Crowley ignored all the utterly incorrect word choices and bent down to inspect the laptop. He’d gifted it to Aziraphale not long ago—an early MacBook model, since they were _supposed_ to be user-friendly. Crowley had helped him set it up and even showed him how he could change the background of the desktop—Aziraphale had immediately selected a terrible selfie they’d taken together that included some ducks they’d befriended in the park. 

Crowley jabbed hopefully at a few keys. Sometimes, if you just fiddled with it, things would fix themselves. Behind him, Aziraphale stood with his hands tightly clasped, looking at Crowley as if he were the handsome IT guy of his dreams. It was very distracting. 

The old trick of turning it off and on again seemed to work a miracle in the end, but the wallpaper had been restored to an uninspired stock photo. 

“I had such a nice picture of us, though! And now it’s gone for good,” Aziraphale pouted, immediately after expressing his utmost gratitude towards Crowley, the tech genius.

Crowley shrugged the gratitude off. "I hated that wallpaper, anyway.”


End file.
